spoofymcgee · 1 year ago
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i do think that within the GFFA there's a misconception at some point that the jedi are allowed to get married.
this comes about as a result of the fact that a member of the sitting council has–give me a sec–five wives and seven children.
eventually, it comes out that mundi is the outlier and overall there is a ban on members of the jedi order marrying.
my point is that i think in the GFFA Spiders Georg is actually Wives Mundi.
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corvid-ghost · 2 months ago
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How did they let Lila and Diego go from her risking it all to have him by her side even though they only knew each other for a couple months and him hiding her away from danger to keep her and their baby safe, to her and HIS BROTHER having an affair
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deiaiko · 9 months ago
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#19.3 Unravel
It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.
Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.
They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.
Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"
Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"
"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"
"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."
"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"
"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."
"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.
Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.
"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"
Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 
Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.
Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"
"There's always a chance–"
"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."
Grace fell silent and went still.
Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"
"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"
"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.
Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."
"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.
Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"
"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.
Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."
Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.
"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."
Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.
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Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.
Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.
Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."
Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.
When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.
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#Whee we get to know some of their past. Specifically their turning point#I hope it flows nicely because i have rewritten this like 3 times now 😭😭😭 dialogues are just not my specialty#like how to make them reveal such information without making them come out of the blue#writing style aside. let's talk about why Agni behaves this way#I will save the details on the what and how for the prologue. but basically Agni had been through hell that he couldn't escape alone#Rak Hatz and Isu saved him (or attempted to). and Agni owed them for saving his life. thus the strong attachment that Khun doesn't have#also let me mention that Agni had trouble differentiating between hallucination and reality after the incident. So he was kind of in denial#maybe Agni had come to a conclusion that they might be dead months after that. but he was too afraid to admit it to Grace#because he thought it was partly his fault for being incompetent. and Grace would hate him for letting their friends die#not wanting to risk being left by Grace. he just put himself (and inevitably Grace too) in the illusion of truth#that there's still a chance their friends are still alive because they have no proof of their deaths#so when Agni was offered to go back to the past. he agreed to it. Already expecting that Rak Hatz Isu aren't the same ones that he looks fo#but it was as good as he could get to redeem himself. Plus they get to meet everyone else who they couldn't save#Anyway. I'm taking hiatus until April. In return I will answer if you have any questions whether it is written in the tags or sent via ask#see ya folks <3 we'll get more brothers and team bonding when I return#tower of god#tog#two sides of the same coin fic#my fic#my art#bam#25th bam#jue viole grace#khun#khun aguero agnis#khunbam#shibisu#ship leesoo#rak wraithraiser#hatz
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tomwambsgans · 2 years ago
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tbh the way some of yall talk about tomgreg makes it seem like yall don't have any clue what gay male attraction is
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snakecat · 1 year ago
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crying cause i just realized how fucking impactful dean calling cas his best friend in “regarding dean” is like. this man grew up travelling so much he never really had people he could just hang out with who weren’t his brother or other hunters. he didn’t have someone he could choose to chill with and gossip with and watch movies with. dean never had a best friend before cas and if you told s1 dean he was gonna meet someone he could call his best friend in a few years he would not believe you
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genericpuff · 5 months ago
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Tbh at this point you should just make your own webcomic app/website because it would probably be 100 times better than whatever going on with webtoon right now.
hahaha it wouldn't tho, sorry 💀
Here's the fundamental issue with webcomic platforms that a lot of people just don't realize (and why they're so difficult to run successfully):
Storage costs are incredibly expensive, it's why so many sites have limitations on file sizes / page sizes / etc. because all of those images and site info have to be stored somewhere, which costs $$$.
Maintenance costs are expensive and get more so as you grow, you need people who are capable of fixing bugs ASAP and managing the servers and site itself
Financially speaking, webcomics are in a state of high supply, low demand. Loads of artists are willing to create their passion projects, but getting people to read them and pay for them is a whole other issue. Demand is high in the general sense that once people get attached to a webtoon they'll demand more, but many people aren't actually willing to go looking for new stuff to read and depend more on what sites feed them (and what they already like). There are a lot of comics to go around and thus a lot of competition with a limited audience of people willing to actually pay for them.
Trying to build a new platform from the ground up is incredibly difficult and a majority of sites fail within their first year. Not only do you have to convince artists to take a chance on your platform, you have to convince readers to come. Readers won't come if there isn't work on the platform to read, but artists won't come if they don't think the site will be worth it due to low traffic numbers. This is why the artists with large followings who are willing to take chances on the smaller sites are crucial, but that's only if you can convince them to use the site in favor of (or alongside) whatever platform they're using already where the majority of their audience lies. For many creators it's just not worth the time, energy, or risk.
Even if you find short-term success, in the long-term there are always going to be profit margins to maintain. The more users you pull in, the more storage is used by incoming artists, the more you have to spend on storage and server maintenance costs, and that means either taking the risk at crowdfunding (ex. ComicFury) or having to resort to outsider investments (ex. Tapas). Look at SmackJeeves, it used to be a titan in the independent webcomic hosting community, until it folded over to a buyout by NHN and then was pretty much immediately shuttered due to NHN basically turning it into a manwha scanlation site and driving away its entire userbase. And if you don't get bought out and try your hand at crowdfunding, you may just wind up living on a lifeline that could cut out at any moment, like what happened to Inkblazers (fun fact, the death of Inkblazers was what kicked off the cultural shift in Tapas around 2015-16 when all of IB's users migrated over and brought their work with them which was more aimed towards the BL and romancee drama community, rather than the comedy / gag-a-day culture that Tapas had made itself known for... now you deadass can't tell Tapas apart from a lot of scanlation sites because it got bought out by Kakao and kept putting all of its eggs into the isekai/romance drama basket.)
Right now the mindset in which artists and readers are operating is that they're trying way, way too hard to find a "one size fits all" site. Readers want a place where they can find all their favorite webtoons without much effort, artists wants a place where they can post to an audience of thousands, and both sides want a community that will feel tight-knit. But the reality is that you can't really have all three of those things, not on one site. Something always winds up having to be sacrificed - if a site grows big enough, it'll have to start seeking more funding while also cutting costs which will result in features becoming paywall'd, intrusive ads, creators losing their freedom, and/or outsider support which often results in the platform losing its core identity and alienating its tight-knit community.
If I had to describe what I'm talking about in a "pick one" graphic, it would look something like this:
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(*note: this is mostly based on my own observations from using all of these sites at some point or another, they're not necessarily entirely accurate to the statistical performance of each site, I can only glean so much from experience and traffic trackers LMAO that said I did ask some comic pals for input and they were very helpful in helping me adjust it with their own takes <3).
The homogenization of the Internet has really whipped people into submission for the "big sites" that offer "everything", but that's never been the Internet, it relies on being multi-faceted and offering different spaces for different purposes. And we're seeing that ideology falter through the enshittification of sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. where users are at odds with the platforms because the platforms are gutting features in an attempt to satisfy shareholders whom without the platforms would not exist. Like, most of us aren't paying money to use social media sites / comic platform sites, so where else are they gonna make the necessary funds to keep these sites running? Selling ad space and locking features behind paywalls.
And this is especially true for a lot of budding sites that don't have the audience to support them via crowdfunding but also don't have the leverage to ask for investments - so unless they get really REALLY lucky in EITHER of those departments, they're gonna be operating at a loss, and even once they do achieve either of those things there are gonna be issues in the site's longevity, whether it be dying from lack of growing crowdfunding support or dying from shareholder meddling.
So what can we do?
We can learn how to take our independence back. We don't have to stop using these big platforms altogether as they do have things to offer in their own way, particularly their large audience sizes and dipping into other demographics that might not be reachable from certain sites - but we gotta learn that no single site is going to satisfy every wish we have and we have to be willing to learn the skills necessary to running our own spaces again. Pick up HTML/CSS, get to know other people who know HTML/CSS if you can't grasp it (it's me, I can't grasp it LOL), be willing to take a chance on those "smaller sites" and don't write them off entirely as spaces that can be beneficial to you just because they don't have large numbers or because they don't offer rewards programs. And if you have a really polished piece of work in your hands, look into agencies and publishing houses that specialize in indie comics / graphic novels, don't settle for the first Originals contract that gets sent your way.
For the last decade corporations have been convincing us that our worth is tied to the eyes we can bring to them. Instead of serving ourselves, we've begun serving the big guys, insisting that it has to be worth something eventually and that it'll "payoff" simply by the virtue of gambler's fallacy. Ask yourself what site is right for you and your work rather than asking yourself if your work is good enough for them. Most of us are broke trying to make it work on these sites anyways, may as well be broke and fulfilled by posting in places that actually suit us and our work if we can. Don't define your success by what sites like Webtoons are enforcing - that definition only benefits them, not you.
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astonmartinii · 7 months ago
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a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au
pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader
someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug
author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)
view all comments
user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head
yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕
user2: y/n where do we find a logan?
yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie
logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around
yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu
logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it
yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?
logansargent: okay..... maybe ....
alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud
yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹
alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?
yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute
logansargent: she loves you really alex
alexalbon: do you still love me logie?
logansargent: yes?
alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME
user3: lol mood ^
oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)
yourusername: ugh i guess
oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(
yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage
oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess
logansargent
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liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)
also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️
view all comments
user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))
user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track
alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x
yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo
alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI
oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻
alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(
logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro
alexalbon: i guess...
user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?
yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes
oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY
logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻
oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn
fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling
logansargent: i paid?
fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others
tagged: logansargent & yourusername
oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite
view all comments
user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?
oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16
yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄
oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan
yourusername: LEAVE ME BE
user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium
user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh
logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game
oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water
yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩
oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE
landonorris: they're really one being huh?
oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME
yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone
landonorris: .... shame
oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER
logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND
yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND
landonorris: damn tough crowd
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off
view all comments
user11: they're so cute your honour
alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.
yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.
lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.
yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan
logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)
yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh
user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner
user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers
user14: and we respect that
logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe
yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘
logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻
yourusername: SNAP🫰
oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump
yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite
oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?
yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)
logansargent: ????
yourusername: *call us 😉
logansargent
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liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great
view all comments
user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?
user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹
alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER
oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨
alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭
yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸
logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once
yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it
logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?
yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary
logansargent: koala?
yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?
logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(
user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(
oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems
yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(
oscarpiastri: true 😔
logansargent: i can't help the southern charm
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williamsf1
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liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others
tagged: logansargent
williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤
view all comments
user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM
yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO
oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?
yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY
maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race
yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU
user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real
user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol
user23: as she should
user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other
logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team
yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media
yourusername: you need to know it :(
logansargent: i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet
user26: but it was cute as fuck
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug
view all comments
user27: the CUDDLE BUG?
user28: i need to be taken out of my misery
logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK
yourusername: i thought it was cute :(
logansargent: and that's what matters
yourusername: exactlyyyyy
oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?
yourusername: yes!
logansargent: yes!
user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL
alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute
yourusername: we been known
logansargent: no one does it like us
alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?
yourusername: lily cute, you not so much
alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES
williamsf1: ???
yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)
logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻
yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(
logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!
fin.
note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx
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lemonlover1110 · 11 months ago
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𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄!
Choso
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Pairing: Choso x f!Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend completely stops focusing on you after you give him a gaming console for his birthday. Luckily, you have a very clever way of reminding him that you also need his attention.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Getting your boyfriend a gaming console for his birthday was truly the worst mistake you've ever made. The moment he turned on the console, all the attention that was rightfully yours, went to a monitor and a controller. Sure, Choso isn’t the most affectionate boyfriend but at the very least he’d give you attention.
You would be attached to the hip, you’d give him all your physical love while he’d do you a favor; whether it was getting you a glass of water or preparing your favorite snack. But now that’s not happening. You try to spend time with him but he’s always on his fucking game, and it annoys you more than you’d like to admit. 
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight, babe?” You walk to the living room, finding him with his headphones on, eyes dead focused on the TV. You sit down next to him, and your usually calm boyfriend suddenly begins to scream, the match pissing him off. You roll your eyes, tempted to turn off the game, but you know that’ll ensue a huge argument. You clear your throat, and repeat your question.
“Huh?” He responds, and you glare at him. You decide that you won’t ask the question for a third time. You’re about to stand up and walk away, but your eyes go to his sweatpants, and a much better idea comes to mind. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and ponder your options. You’re touch starved because of the stupid game console. But Choso doesn’t deserve it.
Your hand still goes to his thigh, and you get on your knees on the floor. Maybe doing this for him will make him remember that he still has a girlfriend with a lot of needs. He can’t pause the game, risking for him to lose when he looks down at you. Utter confusion then clarity hits as your hands go to the waistband of his sweatpants. You give him the cutest eyes while a wicked smirk comes to your lips before asking him, “May I?”
“Have fun.” He responds, his eyes back on the screen. You pull down his pants and boxers, letting his cock free of its confinements. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft and you spit on his cock a couple of times. Your tongue drags on his dick before it gets to the tip. Your tongue circles the tip before you hollow your cheeks and wrap your mouth around what you can take of his cock. It doesn’t earn much of a reaction from him. His game is that much fun.
Your hand wraps around the part that isn’t in your mouth, stroking it while you bob your head. Your free hand goes to his balls, massaging them to get a sound from him, and you feel like you’ve succeeded when you hear a whimper from him. You look up at him, his eyes still focused on the TV but you feel his attention drifting. 
You stop playing with his balls, your hand goes down your own shorts and gets in your panties. Your index and middle finger run through your folds before you begin to play with your clit. Sucking him off always turns you on so much. And it works more now since you’re in dire need of attention.
You try to take all of him in your mouth, your eyes immediately filling up with tears as you gag on his cock. You hear a soft moan from him, and your teary eyes watch him finally break his focus. You finally let his dick go, gasping at a breath of fresh air. It doesn’t take too long for your mouth to wrap around him again, going back to all you can handle. You push two fingers inside your pussy and begin to move them in and out of you, moaning on his cock. 
“Ah… shit– fuck fuckfuckfuck–” You hear, and you watch him toss the controller to the side. He doesn’t care if he loses anymore, his attention has been captivated. He whimpers again before praising you, “You’re doing so good…”
Your fingers go back to your clit, playing with it a bit more before stopping. You have a feeling that your night is far from over, and he won’t edge you. On the contrary. He’ll be generous tonight after you’ve been so generous to him.
He gets more vocal as you continue, letting you know that he’s close to finishing. Maybe after this he’ll finally remember what he’s missing out on while he focuses all his attention on a stupid game. He’s missing out on his pretty little girlfriend in a hundred different ways– If you do well enough he might smash the console into pieces (he won’t).
“I’m gonna–” His breath gets caught up in his chest, his hand going to the back of your head and pushing your head down before he fills your mouth up with his cum. He holds your head still for a moment, and when he finally lets go, there’s a smirk on your face as you swallow every drop of his cum. 
“Did that change your mind?” You ask.
“Let’s go to the bedroom.” He completely ignores the game on his screen, completely focused on you.
7K notes · View notes
workofthediesel · 1 year ago
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alright mutuals i need your trusted judgement
company exec at my new job sent me this email about how "oooh we always do a little post about our new employees on the company intranet site! tell me a little bit about yourself~" and like. not only do i hate that on principal, but the idea of having my personal information disseminated to a whole bunch of people i dont know makes me so uncomfortable that i literally cried about it a few minutes ago
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aliteralsemicolon · 3 months ago
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I'll wait for your love - 18+
See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)
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The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.
Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader
DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 
WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.
Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.
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Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you. 
“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”
He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away. 
“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.
“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.
You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation. 
Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag. 
Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag. 
You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances. 
He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too. 
It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.
He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down. 
You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important. 
It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.
It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by
“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 
“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.” 
You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all. 
“I thought you left.”
“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains. 
You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening. 
“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”
He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it. 
He made you coffee. 
Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”
His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out. 
“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.
He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together. 
You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down. 
The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck. 
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You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make. 
“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back. 
“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched. 
He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there. 
“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway. 
“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate. 
“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying. 
“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence. 
“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”
A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 
“Would you like to play?”
“Please.” 
He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better. 
“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.
“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.
“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 
“I don’t hate you.” 
“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you. 
“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise. 
“I was angry.” 
“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable. 
“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.
You’re leaving soon anyway.
“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it. 
“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left. 
He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say. 
“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.
“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you. 
“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks. 
You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into. 
“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits. 
He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble. 
“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn. 
It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying. 
“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left. 
“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.
“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.” 
There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war. 
“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him. 
“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.” 
Closure.
You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to. 
“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.
“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 
“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.
He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.
“Okay new game.” You announce. 
Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 
“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”
“Till the end of the game?” He studies you. 
“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”
“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?” 
“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now. 
“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.
“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”
He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it. 
“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.
“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.
“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.
“Okay.” You nod again.
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When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game. 
“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”
“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”
“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.
“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.
“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.
“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.
“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance. 
“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result. 
“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”
“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move. 
A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate. 
“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”
He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’. 
“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend. 
“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” 
“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!” 
“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!” 
“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply. 
“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.” 
“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine. 
“I’m not going to apologise for it.”
The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs. 
“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it. 
This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game. 
“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”
“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety. 
“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity. 
“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you. 
You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?” 
“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”
“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him. 
“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you. 
“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”
“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will. 
His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all. 
“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?” 
“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes. 
“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.
“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.
“I am being honest!” You protest.
“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.
“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.
“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.
“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 
Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way. 
“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”
“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”
You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.
“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered. 
You nod, moving your king out of check.
“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction. 
“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.
“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.” 
“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare. 
“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”
“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you. 
“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”
“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.
“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it. 
“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.” 
“You’re profiling!” You gasp.
“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively. 
You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side. 
“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly. 
“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”
Another time. 
“...right now.” 
You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.
“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance. 
“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”
“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.
“The game’s not over.” He points out.
“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.
“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position. 
“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.
“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt. 
“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence. 
“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout. 
“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence. 
“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”
��I don’t care what you–”
“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”
“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.
“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–” 
“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.” 
“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.” 
“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.
“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to. 
If you truly believed that he’s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him. 
“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.
You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.  
“Check.” He smugly states.
“Who was she?” 
You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you. 
“Sorry?” 
“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.” 
“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”
“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight. 
“No, God, no.” He denies immediately. 
“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.
“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head. 
“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move. 
“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”
“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches. 
“You are!” His eyes widen. 
“I am not jealous.” 
His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence. 
“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor. 
Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night. 
“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.
You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again? 
“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts. 
“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.
“Yes.” He hesitates. 
“Oh.” 
“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.” 
“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”
“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you. 
“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire. 
“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.” 
“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”
“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence. 
“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”
Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never. 
“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.” 
Oh. 
Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time. 
“I couldn’t stop pictur–”
“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word. 
Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.
“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.
“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless. 
“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.
“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”
You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect. 
“Because it doesn’t matter.”
“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”
He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.
“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.
“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?” 
“Fair?” 
It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap. 
“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”
You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away. 
“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”
Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence. 
“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?” 
“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.
He knows exactly where it went wrong. 
“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.” 
“When you took it back.”
“What?” 
“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak. 
Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember. 
“I don’t understand.” You croak.
“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”
“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed. 
“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.” 
You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together. 
“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words. 
“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.” 
You tearfully laugh at this admission. 
“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.
Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 
The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter. 
“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him. 
“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 
Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 
“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”
“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending. 
“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.
You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down. 
“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness. 
After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is. 
“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.” 
Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is. 
“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?” 
He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth. 
“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”
“Deliberately?” 
He nods, hanging his head.
“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.” 
“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.
“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.” 
You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances. 
“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”
It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly. 
“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.
“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”
“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps. 
“Spencer, too many things have been said…”
“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.” 
He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue. 
“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”
You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.
“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”
“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.” 
“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.” 
It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.
“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”
The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up. 
“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”
Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.
“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.” 
Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way. 
“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”
“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact. 
“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly. 
You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it. 
“I love you.” He whispers softly.
“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue. 
“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.
“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it. 
“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.
“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”
Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.
“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”
He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response. 
“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.” 
Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret. 
“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”
When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.
“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”
There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other. 
“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.” 
Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.
“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.” 
The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his. 
It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.
Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other. 
There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues. 
Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.
“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips. 
“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.
“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”
“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”
“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”
He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission. 
You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless. 
His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle. 
“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.
He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch. 
There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips. 
He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you. 
Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him. 
His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird. 
“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.
Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.
“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips. 
You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’. 
“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.
As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.
“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.” 
“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking. 
“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.
Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear. 
“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”
“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more. 
“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time. 
They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch. 
“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”
“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure. 
“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.
“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.” 
“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”
Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more. 
It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.  
“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”
His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.
Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight. 
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The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck. 
You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet. 
“Spencer?” 
You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to. 
“Hm?” His features jump.
Does he regret it?
“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.” 
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” 
“About…?” 
“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.” 
Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter. 
“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident. 
Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 
“So you’re staying?” 
“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”
Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss. 
“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second. 
The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 
“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders. 
“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away. 
“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”
“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from. 
“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.” 
He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.
“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.” 
“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his. 
“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.” 
“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to. 
“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.” 
“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.” 
“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss. 
“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries. 
You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened. 
“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.” 
“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”
“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”
Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on. 
“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 
Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes. 
“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed. 
You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further. 
“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.” 
“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”
You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him. 
“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.
“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”
“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.
You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.
“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation. 
“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”
“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door. 
It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours. 
“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go. 
Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did. 
"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates
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Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.
AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.
A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).
Thank you for reading!
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soggyriceee · 21 days ago
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konig fucking you in the car on your lunch break
you had gotten all of Konigs pictures and voice notes, with every voice note your fingers tapping to the photo attached. he had cum on your panties twice now, his wimpers blasting in your ear buds.
you had felt with this the first 4 hours into your shift before you got your hour lunch. the first thing you did was call konig, who was already on his way there, knowing your weekend work schedule by heart at this point.
“that’s it that’s it.. oh i’ve been needing this all day.” he moaned, his head tilted back as his tongue stuck out slightly.
his arm wrapped around your rib cage, pulling you closer as he fucked up into you faster, your whimpers and the sound of skin slapping filling the car.
he hadn’t bothered to pull far from the building, knowing that you liked the risk of your coworkers catching you. “i-i’m gonna send you back into work… all filled with our babies” he moaned, his thrusts growing sloppier and sloppier.
and that he did, giving one final thrust before his cum shot out of him, his cock pulsing violently inside of you. he panted below you, his hips slowing down but still giving deep thrusts. he knew you had to go now, we’ll over your hour long break at this point, tour pussy still sensitive from how he greeted you with his tongue on your clit.
as soon as you tried to get up, he held you back down, saying softly “stay right here.. lemme fuck my cum into you please.” , not really asking more telling.
uhhhhhh you guys liked the last one so here’s another???????????? also should i make these longer or are we liking the short stories
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euthymiya · 3 months ago
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disease ridden (not) — ft. ryomen sukuna
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yuuji may or may not have gotten his uncle sick with the flu, but you don’t really seem to mind having two sick boys to baby at the same time
before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; grumpy sick sukuna and sleepy sick baby yuuji <3
notes: read more unckuna and bbyuuji here and here!
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Yuuji’s pre school is fighting flu season. Which means that one by one, tiny, sniffly noses are dropped off onto the premises despite parents being properly warned by teachers not to let sick children come to school.
(Parents never listen, anyway—they’re stubborn and difficult sometimes. Not missing a day of school is just far more important than ensuring the health of other’s. Who cares if their kid spreads germs if perfect their attendance is maintained, right?)
It’s not surprising that eventually, Yuuji starts his own round of sniffling (it’s inevitable), but you didn’t expect the same from Sukuna, either.
He’s…not happy to say the least.
“This is why I hate when you let that brat come over so much,” a nasally voice grunts at you, groaning as he tosses and turns in the sheets, trying to get comfortable. “Now he’s out here bringin’ diseases.”
“They’re not diseases,” you say exasperatedly, “it’s just a common flu.”
You like to think that Sukuna is kind of cute when he’s sick. (You don’t tell him that, of course—you enjoy keeping him as less grumpy as possible. It’s good for your mental health.) But he pulls at your heartstrings a bit more when he’s under the weather.
His cheeks are flushed, his nose is red, his hair is messier, he’s a tad bit whiny even if he doesn’t realize it, and his voice is less gruff and deep when he’s all congested.
He’s cute.
You don’t like for your boyfriend to be sick, but if there are a few benefits…well, it’s not like you mind having them for the time being.
“Yeah so a fuckin’ disease,” he snaps, grabbing the pillow from under him and chucking it across the room when he finally loses his temper at not being able to get comfortable. “As if the kid isn’t a disease himself—now he’s spreadin’ ‘em, too.”
You laugh, earning a massive glare from him as he lays propped up on his elbows, grumpier by the second. Finally, having a little mercy, you hold your arms out.
“Come here, you big baby,” you giggle.
“Stay away from me,” he grunts. Still, he doesn’t exactly fight it when your arms wrap around him and bring him to lay against your chest, and if he nuzzles a bit into you, he expects you not to voice it.
You’ve already caused him enough issues, as is.
“You’re extra grumpy when you’re sick,” you murmur, stroking back the messy bed hair as your fingers weave into his locks and scratch away at his scalp. “You’d think being sick would quiet you down for once, but I guess not.”
“I’m not fuckin’ grumpy,” he clicks his teeth, “I’m rightfully pissed because the runt couldn’t keep his boogers to himself. And why am I the one who’s sick and not you, anyway? He’s always attached to your hip.”
“Because I’m nice and karma has a way of biting back assholes,” you giggle, poking the tip of his flushed nose as he huffs. He snaps his jaw at you to pretend to bite at your finger as you squeal.
Finally, as though exhaustion has weathered away at his temper, he collapses against your chest, muttering under his breath about the unfairness of it all as he gets comfortable against you.
It’s infinitely better to lay on your tits than that stupid pillow—and he might have even teased you about it, too, but he doesn’t want to risk being shoved off now that he’s finally situated himself in an actually nice position.
Sick Sukuna is also a much less obnoxious Sukuna. You kind of like it when he mellows out a bit from being so tired.
“Where is the brat anyway?” He raises a brow after a few moments.
“Sleeping in the other room,” you hum, smiling fondly at the thought of Yuuji. Sukuna’s nose wrinkles in irritation. “I put him down for a nap.”
“Good. He better stay there.”
As if right on cue, a tired, sleepy Yuuji shows up at your door, rubbing his eyes as his hoarse little voice mumbles, “uncle Kuna?”
“Dear god,” Sukuna groans, making you snort as you gesture Yuuji over, slapping at your boyfriend’s shoulder lightly when he gives you an incredulous look. “You can’t just invite him in here after he got me sick—”
“Come here, Yuuji! Did you nap okay?”
“Uh huh,” the small boy nods, making you smile warmly.
Sukuna doesn’t like it. There’s no way you can properly split your attention between two sick people, and Yuuji is going to have to just accept the Sukuna was here first. Literally. He was here walking this god forsaken planet long before Yuuji was born, and he was here stealing your attention way before Yuuji came around, too.
There’s no compromising on this—you’re Sukuna’s, and Yuuji is going to have to learn that one way or another.
And then, as if testing his uncle’s patience more than he already does, the brat climbs right onto Sukuna and lays over his chest. You watch in amusement as a purely bewildered expression stretches across Sukuna’s face.
“What’s he doing?” He looks up at you incredulously, gesturing at the child curled against his bare chest. You giggle as you roll your eyes.
“He’s cuddling you, of course.”
“What? No. Get him off this instant.”
“I’m not doing that,” you gasp, glaring at a pair of eyes that glare back equally as intensely, “look at him! He’s gone right back to sleep, you can’t disturb him when he’s resting.”
“What about me? I’m resting too,” he hisses. You hum, pulling the covers over the three of you, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as if that’ll calm him. (It does.)
“You’re resting too,” you nod in agreement, wrapping your arms tighter around him as you pull him closer into your chest. One hand finds his hair, curling the strands around your fingers as he groans exasperatedly. “There’s plenty of room for both of you to rest.”
“I hope you get the diseases next time,” he mutters quietly. (He doesn’t mean it—he’d get sick in your place next time too, if he could.) His arm curls around Yuuji to keep him secure, eyes darting to narrow in your direction when you let out a tiny aw. “It’s just so he doesn’t slide off and wake me to get back on. Don’t get over your head.”
“Right,” you snort, “of course.”
“You think I’m lying? Because—”
You cut him off with a small kiss to his lips. Brief and gentle—and yeah, maybe you’ll risk getting sick yourself from that, but you can’t resist. Not when Sukuna looks so soft and sweet with a tiny body curled in his arm.
“You should sleep,” you murmur, stroking through his hair, “you’ll feel better. And then you won’t have diseases.”
“I don’t have fuckin’ diseases!”
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Sick sukuna is soooo cute I just know it. Naps on your chest 24/7 and then acts like you dragged him there against his will
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months ago
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Family Vacation
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: smut!
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You and Lando have been dating for half a year now and the time has finally come to meet his family. You've been putting off that obligation as long as you could, but Lando was too eager for you to meet them given the fact that he fell hard for you. Lando never introduced any of his previous girlfriends to his parents because he never felt that something with any of them to take that step.
But when it comes to you.. He never had a doubt in his mind. You may not have been his first girlfriend, but you were the first one he was sure of.
And so as soon as Lando had a week off from racing, he took it upon himself to organize a family vacation. You hesitated at first because you were racking your brains about whether they would like you, what topics you'd talk about, what if you say something wrong in front of them and similar things to which Lando just laughed sweetly.
It took him two days to convince you that everything will be fine, that you don't need to worry about anything because he will be by your side all the time and won't leave you alone at any moment.
You trusted him and you felt safe next to him and you also knew that you were probably worrying for no reason so soon five days in a hotel in Mallorca with his family didn't sound so bad anymore.
And it wasn't bad at all. Already after the first day spent with them you felt more than accepted. Everyone loved you immediately. Lando didn't let go of your hand as he had promised, but when he saw you chatting alone on the beach with his mom, he beamed.
In the sun on the beach and in good company, the days were passing quickly. You were all together at the beach and at family dinners every day. You and Lando didn't have much time for yourself, but that wasn't the goal of this trip anyway, so you weren't complaining.
But Lando though.. Towards the end of the vacation he started to get impatient. Too eager for you. You hadn't seen each other for two weeks before this and it was getting too much for him to not feel you for that long.
You were loud and clear about no sex while his family is with you even though you were in the hotel, but still you didn't feel comfortable and you weren't gonna risk getting yourself into any awkward situations.
But Lando was tempted.
"Lan can you put lotion on my back please?" You asked after getting out of shower and drying yourself off.
"Sure, come here."
You got sunburned after lying on the beach all day. Your skin was really red so after showering you put on your bikini again to let your skin breathe and absorb the lotion.
Lando was sitting out on the balcony that had a nice lounge set with a sofa, coffee table and a chair. You found him sitting on the sofa and scrolling through his phone. You sat down beside him turning him your back and moving your hair out of the way so he can rub the lotion all over your back.
"Fuck baby, you're so red" He says looking at your burning skin.
"I know, it's really bad" You sigh.
"Does it hurt you?" He asks gently pressing his hand against your skin watching as the white print remains when he removes it.
"Yeah.."
He scoots closer to you and squeezes the lotion into his palm and slowly begins to spread it all over your skin. As the cold cream hits your hot skin, you let out a long low moan in satisfaction. It comes as the music to Lando's ears making him gulp burning his eyes into your back as his hands moved in circular motions.
"Feels good?" He asks.
"Mhm..so good" You let out another moan completely oblivious to the fact that it made his blood rush down to his cock.
His fingers found the strings of your bikini top as he slowly untied them letting them fall down to your sides.
"What are you doing?" You chuckle putting your hand over your boobs to keep the bikini on while the other hand keeps holding your hair up.
"Just making sure I get the lotion everywhere" He smirks attaching his lips to your perfectly exposed neck as his hands move to your front side under your bikini top.
"Lan, stop.." You whisper leaning back into him letting your head rest on his shoulder as he keeps squeezing your boobs.
"I can't" He murmurs before lightly biting your neck. "I've been hard all day watching you in that tiny bikini." His hand slowly trails down your stomach sneaking inside your bikini bottoms while his other hand remains up playing with your nipple. "Can't take it anymore."
"I c-can literally hear your parents t-talking.." You barely manage to get the sentence out trying to warn him that your balcony is next to theirs, but Lando ignores your concern.
"I know you want it, I can feel how wet you are" He says pulling you closer to him as his fingers glide over your wet folds. "You just gotta be quiet, baby"
You wanted to resist him, but you just couldn't bring yourself to. It's been more than two weeks, way too long, since the last time he made you cum and you craved it as much as he did. So when Lando asked "you gonna be quiet for me?" you found yourself nodding carelessly and eagerly.
"That's my good girl" He says quietly kissing your shoulder. You swallow a moan as he attaches his finger to your aroused clit that was aching for pressure.
"You like it when I touch you there?" The profanities that he was whispering into your ear while he was doing such dirty things to you out here on the balcony, where anybody could hear you and see you, turned you on like never before. You nodded at his question unable to open your eyes knowing that if you had tried to speak, you wouldn't have been able to cover your loud moans.
"Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" He asks again slipping two of his fingers inside you making your hips grind against them.
"Fuck, Lando.." You whine gripping on his hand that was fingering you.
"Did you?" Your cheeks flushed at his question. No matter how horny you were, you were still too shy to admit that you touched yourself to the thought of him almost every night. "Don't get shy on me now, baby. I won't let you cum if you don't answer me." He teased.
"I did" You whimper biting your lip.
"Was it as good as when I do it?"
"N-no. Your fingers feel much better."
"I know, baby, I know" He groans at your confession adding the third finger in and quickening his pace in and out of you determined to have you make a mess on them.
"I can feel you clenching already. Missed my touch that much?"
"Yeah, uh-I'm-ah-" He didn't even need any warning from you that you were about to cum. He knew it when he felt your body tremble so he put his hand over your mouth as you turned into a hot mess under his touch finishing all over his fingers.
He calmed you down by leaving lazy kisses all over your neck down to your shoulder. When your breathing became steady and controlled again, you finally turned around to face him.
He put his hand against your cheek looking at you with parted lips as his thumb slid over your bottom lip. His other hand palmed the bulge that was popping out through his shorts.
"You gonna be a good girl and spread your legs for me?" He asked untying your bikini and completely removing it from your body.
"Make yourself comfortable" You smirked giving him a quick kiss before standing up between his legs. He remained sitting when he pulled down his shorts closely following your every move. Before you were about to settle down on his cock between his legs he stopped you turning you around so that your crotch was aligned with his face.
"Wanna taste you" Your fingers tangled into his hair as his tongue worked over your slit collecting your juices and swallowing it only to have him spit out his saliva against your pussy. You moaned as you felt drips of it sliding down your thighs.
"Fuck, can't get enough of you" He sighed gritting his teeth.
You turned around again and crouched down holding onto his thighs. His eyes rolled back in his head as you sunk down on him. His hand rested on your lower back, his eyes locked on his favorite view - you bouncing up and down on him.
"Taking me so well..fuck" He says moving his hands to your hips and slowing you down. You slowed down your movements then stopped moving completely. You started squirming on him so you could feel him deep inside you before restoring the fast pace.
He was groaning, cursing quietly under his breath as you worked your hips against him. It took you by surprise when he abruptly pulled his cock out of you.
"Ahh, fuck, baby" He sighed pressing his cock against your butt and smearing the precum that was leaking from his tip against you ass cheek. "gonna make me cum early"
"Lan, put it back inside me" When you went back to your previous actions, he was already on the edge. He tried to stop you again, but you didn't let him instead you kept going urging him "fill me up, Lan"
"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna cum, oh fuck.." His voice quivered before shooting his load inside you. You kept riding him through his orgasm making his head fall back against the sofa as his hands gripped your hips tighter making you wince a little.
As you stood up, he watched as his cum ran down your thighs. He sucked in a harsh breath at the sight that almost made him hard again.
"Come here" He said pulling you down to him. You sat beside him and put your legs over his lap. He put his arm around you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You did so good" He said and you blushed a little.
"I love you, baby" He whispered before lifting you up into his arms and taking you into the bedroom.
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sgt-tombstone · 2 months ago
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Contrary to popular belief, when Soap joined the 141, he didn't attach himself obnoxious and irrevocably to his glowering lieutenant. There was no baby duckling moment, no imprinting from the sociable sergeant, no following Ghost around like a lost puppy
For his first few weeks on base, he was bright and loud in the way of the new kid on the block trying to make friends however he could, but he gravitated mostly towards Gaz, a man equal to him in rank, passion, and mischievousness. He sought out Ghost with the same enthusiasm that he sought out latrine duty or paperwork; a part of everyday military life that's easier to accept and move on than fight against. He didn't go out of his way to avoid Ghost, but he also didn't actively try to gain his attention either
Contrary to popular belief, it was Ghost who attached himself to Soap, not the other way around
Ghost has always stuck to the shadows, taken advantage of the brightness of others to stay hidden, to fly under the radar until he erupts with deadly force, and no one was brighter than Johnny. When Soap walked into a room, no one had the wherewithal to even think to check for anyone behind him; he stole the attention of everyone he came in contact with. He was a blaze of energy and charm and excitement, and Ghost shamelessly used it to his advantage, placing himself behind Johnny like he was deploying a decoy flare, knowing that he could rely on the shadow that Soap never failed to cast with his intensity. It wasn't a fear thing, either; Ghost never cowered in Soap's shadow. At worst, he lurked. At best, prowled. He did what he did best, assisted by an oblivious, brilliant sergeant
And when Soap caught on... Price never knew peace again, because Soap turned the glow up tenfold, intentionally creating pockets of shadow for his lieutenant to hide in, the two of them working in tandem until they didn't even have to speak, until they could move around each other with alarming, exceptional ease
Around base, Ghost took advantage of it for fun, or to get out of paperwork, or to avoid social interaction; he could trust his sergeant to distract anyone from anything for long enough that Ghost could slip away entirely unnoticed, with everyone around them none the wiser
In the field, though... They had never been a more deadly duo. There was risk involved, of course, because intentionally drawing attention to yourself in a firefight is less than ideal, but they trusted each other implicitly. Whenever Soap kicked up dust, Ghost took cover in it, hiding in plain sight, secure in the knowledge that the combination of Soap's diversion and his own trigger finger kept them completely safe. No one ever saw Ghost, not when they were too caught up in the pandemonium that was Johnny MacTavish, and then it was too late, because Ghost had already taken them out
And when Soap turned that wildness on Ghost himself, well... Simon could admit that he used his sergeant's influence to his advantage, but he'd never claim to be entirely immune to it himself...
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harmoonix · 8 months ago
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☾ Your Moon Phase ☾
☾ ~ In your Birth Chart ~ ☾
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☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾
🌑 If you want to find your moon phase scroll down before you read so you'll know what you read about 🌑 ☾•☾•☾
☾ • ☾ • ☾
🌑 BORN ON THE NEW MOON 🌑
The native born during the new moon is meant to experience many vast, wild and beautiful experiences in this lifetime, since New Moon symbolize beginnings, your entire life is about yourself, to prioritize yourself, to prioritize your time. The new moon is also known as the "Dark Moon" is the phase where moon is the weakest, because is covered in full darkness. People born under the new moon love to try out new things, to start new journeys/ideas/ to extend their creativity, since Moon can be a bit more soft in this phase, the native has an unique sensitive nature, is very important to not lose your love for curiosity as you grow up, to always stay curious
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🌑 BORN ON A WAXING CRESCENT MOON 🌑
The natives born under a waxing crescent are more to embrace their lives with more curiosity and joy than others, their energy can be from clingy - to an attachment style in a really fast way, above all they're are independent and love to do the things their own way, they also tend to prefer their comfort zone and security (feeling safe) over anything else. They may also love challenges, especially if there is a reward involved, (risk taking). Some of them can also be a bit timid/shy at first but kind and respectful! The native during this moon phase tends to attach themselves to the past which can be a bit bad for them because you cannot change the past, you may feel sorry or bad over your past but don't let it to ruin your whole life
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🌑 BORN ON A FIRST QUARTER MOON 🌑
Where the moon firstly finds herself being half illuminated, half and half, 2 pieces combining eachother, darkness and light. This phase of moon indicates growth. Therefore the native can be really grounding, motivational, more calm/peaceful. You are the protagonist/main character with this moon phase in your own life. The native has a very excited nature, the more excited thet get the more things they create out of it. They may also have a sense of achieving things, to collect as many things as possible and to open new doors in life. The native is a strong individual, proactive, sometimes a bit passive aswell. Your strong personality can help you to reach your full potential. Is very important to know that you can't change some things and have to let them happen, sometimes waiting for the result of a problem can be a key solver
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🌑 BORN ON A WAXING GIBBOUS 🌑
The native born during this moon phase is blessed with the gift of communication, while other moon phases search for an individual knowledge, this moon phase wants to share their knowledge with others. These natives can also identify as the "psychologist" or "therapist" of their group (friend group if is the case) because of their analytical mind, they often know how it is to go through from bad to good moods and vice versa, and they know how to deal with problems in their own ways. What's special about this moon phase is that you can be what you want to be, since the native can be a big believer of their dreams and desires, they will certainly achieve those. The native can easily be an influencer in the relationship, inspiring the other one and themselves in the same time.
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🌑 BORN ON THE FULL MOON 🌑
The time where wolves are howling to the moon, is a very wild phase for the moon to be in, is known for this moon phase to drive people crazy. The native born during this moon phase is very transformative. The moon is tightly tied connected to the natives feelings/emotions, and sometimes can even have a control upon it. For example to feel more agitated or stressed. You as a child of the full moon, you can often find yourself being a little more sensbile than others, sensbile to others people's energy as well. Is a state where your conscious mind allows you to dreams,to visualize your life, something about these natives is that gives "off vibes" is when it comes to being an extrovert or introvert, since it can manifest differently. An romantic native with a heart full of desires
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🌑 BORN ON A WANING GIBBOUS 🌑
The children of the waning gibbous moon are gifted with a mind of a creator, they often have a very good intuition or like a little "angel" beside their shoulder energy, the moon finds herself being more of a reserved nature, if I was to describe this moon phase it will be the sound ocean waves at night. They're often that wise yet creative person of the group, but in the same logical and open-minded. You can find yourself always looking for a part that is missing, the feeling that you're not complete. You're very conscious of yourself/your life/your ambitions. And something very admirable about them is their beliefs, a native born during this moon phase will never be let down by their higher selves/by the God/source/universe
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🌑 BORN ON A LAST QUARTER 🌑
The natives born during the last quarter have a sense of nostalgia in them, you have a quality about you that seems frozen in time, you keep yourself unique while trying to help others to do the same as well. This moon phase is more attachable than others, so therefore the natives not only attaches to people but to places/animals/things in life very easily. They may also have a sense of finding their meaning in life, while being happy about it even about the smallest things, because they represent "virtue". The native is known for being kind/lovely/loyal and sensible and sometimes they tend to hide themselves in their inner world. Sometimes the past can blind you from the joy of the present & future. The present is just as deserving of your love and attention as your past
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🌑 BORN ON A WANING CRESCENT MOON 🌑
Born during the very last moon phase, the native born during this moon phase is gifted with an immense spirituality and intuition, to describe them with one eye they see the physical world and with other eye they see the spiritual world, so in a way they're connected with each other, the native is very likely to daydream a lot, may receive lots of insights and visions in their dreams. They are gifted with an active imagination, to imagine and create. A glorious nature yet sensibile and affected by others energy. You know how to get deep and meaningful, and it's because at your core, you're a thinker. The thing with them is that they get more wise by their age, just like a flower ready to bloom and show her beauty
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🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘 • 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
How to find your specific moon phase?
Try searching on google/internet your birthday and to add "moon phase" for example: 13.09.2020 moon phase!!
Another example is that astro seek (the site) wil show the moon phase right after you did your birth chart, scroll down to planets table and look right under the moon placement, for example like this:
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The 3rd option will be to just search "moon phase calculator" on google but some of them can have wrong results. I suggest that the first and 2nd versions are wayy better!
This was an easy take, hope it helped you to find your moon phase!! Also what phase was the moon where you were born?🌗 Harmo☾nix 🌗
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 5 ] || [ Chapter 7 ]
Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: firing guns, i guess (but John's teaching you). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 6: John.
You crossed the entrance to the small pub, head held high, in your most honest attempt at feigning confidence.
After you had accepted, jokingly, to meet with this ‘Captain John’, only as an opportunity to roast the three men behind the account some more, Kyle had reached out to you, through John’s account, saying he also accepted and wanted to meet you today, Friday night, at 8 P.M.
You almost backed out. 
Keyword, almost.
Because when you went to your groupchat to ask for support from them, your girlfriends encouraged you.
You almost set a Siri reminder to get better friends.
Either way, you have to admit that it feels… better to meet up John. Your heart is still a bit sore, the wound of heartbreak still struggling to swell closed… 
Meeting with Simon or Kyle or Johnny would’ve meant rehashing it. You couldn’t risk getting attached to them after a night of casual sex. But there’s no expectations here… John is older than you, than them. This is just drinks, according to Kyle. He had insisted, in fact, that it be just drinks.
It felt more comforting to know you weren’t expected to go home with him at the end… Even though he’s handsome enough that you wouldn’t exactly refuse had your heart not been in its current state.
So, here you are. You keep his Tinder profile open on your phone, like it has been since you left the house, trying to memorize his features so that when you spot him, you recognize him instantly.
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In a way, this feels like a blind date… And it’s strangely exciting.
You spot him from the door the moment your eyes scan the room. He’s at a table in the far corner, his back against the wall, taking up a bar stool. You stop by the bar before making your way over, getting yourself a drink.
You’re not sure if he’s spotted you, if he knows who you are. So you take the time to get a proper look at him that isn’t through a grainy picture on your phone.
He’s about as wide as he is tall and his forearms are covered in hair (“built like a bear”, check.). He’s got a tumbler of ambar liquid in front of him, you can infer it’s whiskey (“likes Whiskey”, check.). His beard is a bit thicker than in the pictures you were sent, and he looks knackered, his eyes surrounded by heavy dark circles.
He sits with his back straight, however his head hangs low and he keeps looking around through his eyebrows like he’s suspicious of everyone. His legs are spread, heels hooked on the footrest of the stool, the jeans he wears clinging tight to his strong thighs. His hands hang limply between them. He’s wearing a maroon button-up atop a white crewneck t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show a black watch on his left wrist.
In short, he’s handsome. And does not look his age.
Stopping in front of the table, you offer him a smile. “John?” You ask, as if you don’t already know it’s you.
He seems to finally notice you, and his harsh face softens with a smile that scrunches his nose.
“Hi. How are you?” He asks politely as he pulls back the stool on his right side for you. You take the seat, squirming a bit as you look for a good position.
“Can’t complain. You alright?” You return and you catch how he looks at you, up and down, his head hanging low, as he glances at you.
“What are you drinking?” He asks.
“Oh, just… a Sprite.” You answer as you keep glancing at him.
He goes quiet and nods, looking away for a moment, giving you every indication that he’s not interested in being here.
“I get it, you know.” You say after a beat of long, strenuous silence.
John’s blue eyes immediately flitter over to you, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Get what?” He asks with a mix of confusion and disdain in him.
“Being forced to go out… Meet someone.” You explain as you sip your Sprite through the black straw the bartender gave you.
“Oh, really?” He retorts as he leans his left elbow on the round table and swivels to look over at you.
“Oh, yeah.” You say with a nod. “Recovering from a break-up.” You tell him. “My friends put me up to the whole… dating app-get laid thing. So, I get it. It’s… awkward.” You add. 
“Hm.” He says with a nod and presses his lips together a bit, as if conceding to you.
“We don’t have to make this a whole thing, if you don’t want to.” You tell him and smile a bit. “I can leave, if you’d like. Or you can.” You offer, noticing how his eyes soften a little. 
“No… it’s alright…” He tells you. His eyes slip away from you and he looks down at his lap, blinking a little. He seems… a bit lost in thought. He goes quiet again.
“Okay, then.” You say simply. “I just figured you needed a distraction, you know… Your lads were complaining about you being stressed…” You add, your eyes stuck on him, to try and spot his reaction.
He curls his fists closed and then uncurls them, running his clammy palms over his jeans for a moment. Then, he inhales sharply before slapping his hands on his thighs and turning to you swiftly.
“You ever shot a gun before?” He asks you, causing your brows to raise in surprise.
“No?” You answer, watching as he downs the rest of his whiskey and jumps down from his stool.
“C’mon. I’m teaching you.” He demands as he contours the table and helps you down, guiding you back out of the pub.
-
“Bend your arms about 10 degrees at the elbows.” John tells you from behind you, his big rough hands adjusting your shape with tender but determined touches.
John’s driven you to a firing club’s range just outside of London. You’ve been at this for an hour now and it’s… surprisingly fun.
You’ve yet to land a proper shot, your arms always shaking a little out of aim… But you’ve landed them in the target, which is more than you thought you were going to succeed.
“How the fuck do you handle this every day? This damn rifle is heavy, my arms hurt and we’ve only been practicing for an hour!” You tell him after firing another shot that did not land. 
“Lots of practice, love.” He replies, his tone amused. He stepped up behind you, once more fixing your stance, giving little taps to your hip with one of his large hands to force you to stiffen.
John’s been trying not to snicker every time you fire. At first it was because you were flinching, but now it’s because your aim is that bad. But you don’t mind the mockery. He’s got a smile on his face, his smile lines and nose all crinkled.
“Go on, again.” He demands as he helps adjust you, his breath brushing against your ear, the warmth of his torso against your back, and his eyes above the rifle, to try and see if you’re in target. He makes some last second adjustments and then you fire.
This time it was a bull’s eye. “THERE WE GO!” You cheer for yourself and shimmy your shoulders a little while holding the rifle steady. This time, John doesn’t contain himself, and fully laughs. Deep and rich, right next to your ear, making you shiver a bit, your skin covered in goosebumps.
“Good job.” He praises you and gived you another little tap on your hip, this time, sort of catching the side of your ass. Your eyes widen a bit in surprise and you bite your lip before looking up at him.
“You’ve had enough yet?” He asks you with a cocked brow as you lower the rifle into a safe handle, pointing down and to the side. 
“Depends.” You find yourself saying as he takes the rifle from you to return at the rental counter.
“On what, love?” He asks you, eyes locked on yours as you turn to face him fully. He seems to be in a much better mood.
“Me having enough of shooting…” You trail off. “Will that end the night? Are you going to drop me off at home?” You ask him.
His eyebrows raise for a bit, but then they lower and his eyes narrow as a ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Oh no, I’m taking you home, but not dropping you off. I’m spending the night with you.” He assures you.
Then, he walks off out to the armory counter, as if he hasn’t just said that.
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